


Need a Ride?

by zynnser



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bottom!Stiles, College Student!Stiles, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mechanic!Derek, Rimming, Somnophilia, Top!Derek, hitchhiker!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zynnser/pseuds/zynnser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles could deal with that; he totally understood the need for extended private time in the shower that used up all the hot water after having enthusiastic sex the night before. </p><p>Oh, wait. No he didn’t.</p><p>Or where Derek is way too surly to be a proper hitchhiker and Stiles is his ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need a Ride?

**Author's Note:**

> **See end notes for details about the nature of the dubious consent.**
> 
>  
> 
> Beta'ed by [Kari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/neesha89/pseuds/Kari/), all remaining mistakes are my own.

Stiles loved his jeep.

The jeep had been a present from his dad on his sixteenth birthday, and although Stiles had been just as excited to get his own set of wheels as the next teenager; the note taped to the steering wheel that really made her the perfect car.

_She believed every boy's first car should be a manual transmission._

Stiles's dad had spent the rest of the afternoon clutching the armrest in terror as he tried to teach Stiles how to drive a stick shift. That day held one of the few memories Stiles had from after his mom had died where he felt like she was there with them. And yeah, maybe he didn't get his licence until a few weeks after his birthday, but the delay had been more than worth it.

But at this point, returning home from his sophomore year at college in New York City, the jeep ran more on sweet words and gentle coaxing than on gas. A fact which led Stiles to spend the day he should have been leaving for California sitting in a mechanic's garage waiting for the jeep to be fixed.

"Hey!" Stiles said, banging on the window separating the waiting room from the working area in the garage. "You said it would be done by noon! It's almost two in the afternoon. I need to get on the road sometime today, man."

The mechanic glanced over and grunted, not deigning to reply. Stiles let out a put-upon groan and stalked back to his seat. Maybe he could find an edition of National Geographic if he looked through the pile of car magazines again. There hadn't been one the first twenty times he sifted through the pile, but Stiles firmly believed in being optimistic; maybe a fairy had dropped one off since the last time he looked.

Stiles was busy sorting magazines into piles based on the covers - Hot Girls and Shiny Cars being the two largest piles, with a smaller one of Kid Stuff - when he heard the door chime.

"Welcome to Big City Motors," Stiles muttered under his breath, not looking up. "We'll give you special service; triple the time, only twice the price."

Stiles heard a snort from the general direction of the door. "And leave the job half done."

"Seriously? Man, that can't be good." Stiles glanced over at the guy who just walked in and wow. Okay, wow, maybe he should have taken a good look when the guy opened the door because this view was way better than anything in the mythical National Geographic magazine.

The guy had just finished putting a leather jacket on the coat rack, so Stiles had an excellent view of his ass. He appeared to be a little taller than Stiles and wore jeans and a wife-beater that did nothing to hide his muscles or the tattoo peaking over the edge of the fabric. As he turned, Stiles couldn't help but notice the way the clothes showcased the muscles on his... everywhere really, but Stiles might have been a little distracted by his abs in particular, because yum. And his hair. Because he had it spiked at the length that was just perfect for grabbing and petting and... being perfect. And his arms. Stiles hadn't seen muscle tone like that outside of television shows. And okay, so the guy ranked about a 15 out of 10 on Stiles's hotness scale.

Yeah, Stiles knew he sounded creepy, but if the guy was going to walk in strip off his jacket (heh, strip) like a model, Stiles could at least enjoy the show. Right?

The guy frowned at him, as though he could read Stiles's thoughts (and how the hell did anyone manage to look even hotter when they frowned, his life was so unfair), and turned to knock on the window to the main garage.

"Dave, I need to work today."

"No can do, man. I've got a full crew on, no room for dailies." Dave's voice was muffled through the glass, but still clear enough to make out. Stiles snorted loudly from his chair; the garage was pretty clearly deserted aside from the three of them.

Hot Guy (Stiles was going to call him that until he got a name) laid a fist up against the window and tried again. "I know you've already ripped this kid off enough to pay me for the day. Let me finish the job."

"Like I said," Dave drawled through the glass, "no can do. You're racking up a lot of time in here; if you do any more I'll have to start giving you benefits."

"You pay all your employees under the table anyway," Hot Guy growled.

"Hey now! Not in front of the paying customer."

"Then let me work."

"Nope," Dave said, making an obnoxious popping noise on the 'p'.

Stiles didn't even bother to hide his smirk as he got up and walked to stand next to Hot Guy. If he was going to be late getting home anyway, he couldn't think of a better way than helping Hot Guy take Douchewad Dave down a peg or two. "Maybe I should lodge a complaint with the police about your business? I mean, my dad's in the force, I'm sure he'd be willing to convince the department to look into all the EPA violations you have lying around here. And maybe when they're done with that, they'll take a glance at your books just so they can, you know, be thorough in their investigation, and I don't think you want that, do you?"

Dave put down his tools and opened the door, leaning on the handle and looking straight at Stiles. "Fine, kid. What do you want?"

Stiles startled a little, not expecting Dave to turn to him. Sure, he knew he could make threats, but most of what he'd said had been hot air. Yeah, his dad was a police officer - in California, not New York - but he was almost entirely sure that the police weren't allowed to check a business's financial history when they were supposed to be investigating EPA regulations. Just like he was pretty sure that EPA violations went through the government and not law enforcement.

But apparently Dave didn't know that.

"Let him finish the work on my car and pay him for the full day."

Dave's face scrunched up like he wanted to complain, but he just nodded and opened the door for Hot Guy to make his way through.

Dave walked over to the front desk and sat down with a sigh, reaching under the counter and pulling out a recent issue of playboy. Stiles restrained himself from commenting, and took a seat where he had a clear view of Hot Guy through the window.

Stiles was fully engrossed in watching Hot Guy move under the hood of the jeep when Dave started talking.

"So, _Stiles_ ," Dave drawled, making a show of studying the sign in sheet with Stiles's name on it. "What do you want with the vagabond?"

"What?"

"The vagabond. I think he prefers the term 'traveler,' but it's not like he ever goes anywhere. Just comes in to do freelance work and screw with my booking system. What do you want with him? You can't seriously be interested in someone like him."

Stiles snorted and ignored the ridiculous stab at Hot Guy's sexual attractiveness. "It sounds like your booking system could use a little reworking anyway."

Dave ignored the jibe and continued as if Stiles hadn't spoken. "He's saving up money for something though. Or blowing it all on dope or some shit; I don't really care. I let him in once and he keeps coming back and demanding more and more like a fucking dog. If you know what's good for you, you won't let him follow you home."

Stiles opened his mouth to make a comment about preferring to be followed home by someone like Hot Guy over assholes like Dave when Hot Guy came back in through the garage door, wiping his greasy hands on a rag.

"It's fixed," he said, glaring at Dave. "You could have been done two hours ago."

Stiles watched as Dave's face shifted into a sleazy grin. "But if I'd been done two hours ago, you wouldn't have gotten any work. Wouldn't want that, now would we, Derek?"

"Wouldn't still be in town if you'd paid me what you promised," Derek returned.

Dave leaned back in his chair and fanned himself with the magazine. "Right. Because you're going to California to see your sister and your poor ailing uncle. Weren't you doing that last month too?" Stiles had the sudden desire to punch Dave is his oh-so-smarmy face, because making fun of family like that was not okay, especially when it was obvious even to him that Derek didn't have anyone here to lean on for support.

And, wait. Derek wanted to go to California?

"I'd be gone by now if I could afford bus fair to get there," Derek ground out, glaring at Dave.

"Wait," Stiles said, coming up behind Derek from his chair. "California?"

Derek turned to face him, and Stiles suddenly found himself on the receiving end of The Glare. The Glare, which deserved capital letters and should probably come with a health warning because in addition to being rather terrifying, it was also incredibly hot. Frighteningly hot, heh.

"Dude, what? I'm going to California. You could come with?"

Derek's glare changed into more of an intensive stare, and Stiles found himself hoping Derek would agree to ride with him. Or ride him. Or let Stiles ride him. Any one of those would be good, really.

"Why would you take a total stranger?"

Stiles shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and trying to ignore Dave making throat slashing motions from behind Derek. It's not like Stiles had any intention of telling Derek he understood the need to be with family when they were sick. Or that he found Derek to be a hot piece of eye candy. Or that he kind of wanted to piss off Dave and this seemed like a good way to do it. "The more the merrier," Stiles said with a shrug, deciding it was technically true, and not nearly as offensive or private as his other motivations.

"Fine," Derek replied after a moment, moving towards the door and grabbing his jacket.

Stiles took a deep breath and followed him out, turning to address Dave as he left, "Consider my taking him off your hands as payment for the tune-up, douchebag."  
  


* * *

 

Lying awake in the dinky hotel room listening to the sound of the shower, Stiles was really starting to rethink the brilliance of his impromptu decision to invite Derek on a roadtrip. Stiles was pretty sure that Derek hadn't said more than five words to him since they'd left the auto garage in New York, three of which were, "You shower first." And it wouldn't even have been that bad, except it gave Stiles a lot of time to think about what a horrible idea this had been.

Which it was. A horrible idea.

Stiles couldn't count the number of times his father had lectured him on safety on the road and driving carefully and not picking up hitchhikers, like he thought it was something Stiles would be as prone to as speeding and trespassing. Stiles didn't think Derek could really be classified as a hitchhiker per se, since he didn't exactly pick the guy up off the side of a road, but Derek still counted as a total stranger getting a ride in Stiles's car.

A total stranger who disliked talking and started scowling and giving off very clear leave-me-alone vibes as soon as he got in the car.

It made Stiles think about all times he'd signed on to his dad's computer to check crime statistics in the Beacon Hills area. Usually for the purpose of making sure no one had reported two teenage boys matching his and Scott's descriptions trespassing on their land, but he also stayed updated on all the California crime rates when he had been attending high school.

Which meant that he knew hitchhikers were more often the victims of crimes than the perpetrators, and that crimes like robbery and theft were way more common than murder and assault. But since they'd left the garage and the (very poor) buffer of Douchewad Dave, Derek had started seeming more and more like one of the people Stiles's dad tried to warn him about.

Stiles was about 50% sure Derek wasn't one of those serial killers who hung out around places people picked up hitchhikers so that they could ride for a few hundred miles and then kill them. Those were the guys you heard about on the news who left a body count of ten or fifteen unsuspecting drivers before they were finally caught. In all honesty though, Stiles figured the best argument against Derek being a mass murderer was that the serial killing hitchhikers were probably more sociable. After all, they had to be able to convince their victims to pick them up even though there were murders being committed by hitchhikers just like them, and Derek was definitely not giving off the take-me-home-with-you vibes Stiles imagined criminals probably had.

Stiles groaned and smashed his face into the pillow. Thoughts about sociable serial killers and silent passengers were exactly why driving a stranger from New York City to Beacon Hills, California was a horrible idea.

Stiles heard the water turn off and flipped over onto his back. He tried not to listen to Derek rummaging around in the bathroom, but found that the harder he concentrated on listening to the crickets, the louder the sounds in the bathroom became.

Finally the door to the bathroom opened and Stiles closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't have to find something other than Derek to look at. Derek didn't waste any time in walking over to his bed and flicking off the lights. Stiles opened his eyes and tried not to sigh as he stared up at the ceiling in the darkness. It was going to be a long trip.  
  


* * *

 

Stiles was having a very pleasant dream. It was one of those dreams where you knew you were dreaming, but that didn't detract from the experience at all. And maybe this one was caused by too few dates and too many nights spent with only his right hand for company back in the dorm, but that didn't lessen the good feelings that were running through him at pulled at the hair of the imaginary guy sucking his dick.

Or imaginary Derek sucking his dick, he supposed, looking down to the man lying between his legs. Apparently his subconscious thought Derek was prime masturbation material and hey, Stiles was totally down with his id picking out the hottest guy he'd ever met to give him a dream blowjob. His mind was awesome like that.

Then dream Derek managed to run his lips over the sensitive area right under the head of Stiles's cock, and he found himself pushing his hips up into the pressure. Derek obliged, then moved forward to flick his tongue over the spot. And fuck yes, Stiles should be the envy of men everywhere because his subconscious gave him the most awesomely fantastic blowjobs ever.

Stiles made a high pitched whine of disapproval when Derek pulled off to stare at him. And huh, that was weird, because it almost sounded like he could hear himself whining, which didn't make sense because this was a dream.

Shifting his hips down, chasing the sensation of Derek's mouth, Stiles realized that he could feel the roughness of the sheets beneath him. He slowly opened his eyes, lids sticky from sleep, trying not to think about how unfair it was to be woken up right now.

He didn't get much time to think about the unfairness of it though, because the his next thought was blown off course by the feeling of a warm mouth enveloping his dick. Stiles instinctively bucked his hips at the sudden contact and felt himself hit the back of someone's throat. Once he had regained enough control to have a semi-coherent though process, Stiles propped himself up on his elbows and squinted into the darkness to see who was giving him a morning blowjob.

"Oh fuck," Stiles breathed out, trying to concentrate on not blowing his load as he flopped back down onto the bed. Derek. Fucking hell, Derek was giving him morning head and fucking laughing around his dick.

"I could stop, if you want," Derek replied, cupping Stiles's balls as he pulled up to talk.

"Don't you fucking dare, asshole." Stiles buried his fingers in Derek's hair and pulled him back down. Derek complied without resisting, and Stiles moaned as Derek swallowed him down to the root. Stiles distantly noted that he had been right; Derek's hair was the perfect length for grabbing.

Derek started setting a pace, bobbing up and down on Stiles's cock and holy shit that was so much hotter now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light and he could actually watch Derek going down on him. Stiles abruptly looked away because he was not going to last as long as he wanted with Derek looking like that, totally relaxed and at home sucking on Stiles's cock first thing in the morning.

Stiles was so caught up in trying not to come that he let out a short yelp when he felt something cool and wet probing at his entrance. Derek hummed gently around his dick, and Stiles did his best not to tense up as the finger circled around his hole, waiting for him to relax enough to push in. Because Stiles was totally down with this development, and if he was a little curious as to where Derek had found the lube, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Derek's finger slipped in to the first knuckle and Stiles groaned as it moved slowly inside him, tugging and stretching the sensitive flesh around his rim.

"Fuck. That's, yes. Yes, keep doing that." Derek pushed his finger further in and Stiles felt the stretch of it, reveling in the mild burn that came from not being on the receiving end in way too long. It felt wonderful, having someone touch him like that again, and Stiles was having difficultly trying to decide whether the suction on his cock or the stretch in his ass was more important. Derek took the decision away from him by adding a second finger and putting his arm across Stiles's hips, holding him down on the bed as he moved up Stiles's cock to slurp at the precome that decorated the tip.

"You should be careful with me," Stiles panted once he'd gotten his breath back. Derek smirked, but didn't say anything, moving down to mouth at Stiles's balls as he scissored his fingers. Stiles felt a third finger start pushing at his entrance, and tried to shrink in on himself a little when it breached the ring of muscle.

"You really haven't done this in a while, have you?" Derek said, voice amused and somewhat hoarse from his earlier activities, though he continued pushing in with the third finger.

"It wasn't really a priority at school," Stiles ground out, feeling the need to defend his ability to get laid. Which was slightly ridiculous; defending his attractiveness to the guy who had woken him up with a blowjob and now had three fingers buried in his ass. Derek grunted in reply, and Stiles opened his mouth to tell Derek to use his words and not sub-verbal vocalizations, but then Derek's fingers brushed over his prostate and Stiles lost his ability to speak coherently. So maybe it made him a hypocrite, but talking was totally overrated.

Stiles pushed back onto Derek's fingers, hoping he'd get the message to hurry up and get to the fucking part already. Instead, Derek used his free hand to push Stiles's legs farther apart and curled his fingers, brushing over Stiles's sweet spot again. Stiles let out a throaty whine and tried the same tactic again only to have Derek pull him into his lap. And this was very much not an improvement because now Stiles could feel Derek's erection brushing against his balls every time he pushed onto Derek's fingers and that was _not where it needed to be._

"Please, Derek." Stiles was proud that he managed to get words out at all, and if his voice cracked he blamed it on Derek for being a fucking tease. Derek leaned forward, his hand tracing lines up and down the side of Stiles's rib cage to help them stay balanced as he moved.

"Condom?"

Stiles found himself nodding before he actually processed that Derek had asked him a question. Not a do-we-need-a-condom question, but a do-you-have-a-condom question.

"Oh, you asshole," Stiles breathed out, voice hitching up an octave as Derek twisted his fingers inside Stiles again. Stiles wanted to make some comment about how it was not okay to get this far with a guy and then tell him you couldn't follow through because you didn't have a condom, but Stiles figured that it would be better to save the lecture for sometime when he could string more than two word together.

"Left side pocket." Stiles barely got the words out between two of Derek's lazy thrusts with his wrist. Seriously, no guy should be able to be that nonchalant and that good at fingering; it shouldn't be legal. Stiles let out a sharp noise of protest as Derek pulled his fingers out and leaned over the side of the bed to rummage around in Stiles's luggage.

"Other left, man," Stiles said eventually, glancing over the side of the bed to see what was taking so long.

Derek took the direction and opened the other pocket, pulling himself back onto the bed, condom in tow.

"That's a total mood killer, you know," Stiles informed him, finding his voice again.

"I could stop, if you wanted me to," Derek said for the second time that night, tone slightly confused and gaze fixated pointedly on Stiles's crotch where he was still mostly hard.

"Dude no." Stiles grabbed the condom package from Derek, tearing it open and rolling it on. "You don't tease for that long and then back out, man. Just fuck me already." Derek apparently didn't take hints very well, because Stiles had to place Derek's cock at his entrance and try to shimmy down onto it from his awkwardly sprawled position on the bed before Derek finally got with the program and started pushing in.

"Yes," Stiles hissed out, relaxing against the intrusion and letting Derek take over. Derek started off slowly, like he wasn't sure Stiles was as ready as he said. Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes - in his experience, eye rolls during sex didn't lead to happy endings - and started pushing back onto Derek in a slightly faster rhythm.

"Fuck." Derek said, increasing his pace as he placed his hands on either side of Stiles's head, leaning down. Stiles reached up to pull Derek towards him, resting their foreheads together as they panted against each other's mouths. Stretching up slightly, Stiles licked at Derek's lips and tangled his fingers in his hair (it was made for that, after all), pulling Derek into a kiss.

It felt like more of a mess of teeth and tongue than a proper kiss, but Stiles was okay with that for right now. He could get his soft kisses later, maybe, when they weren't fucking. If Derek wanted to do this again.

Because Stiles definitely wanted to do this again.

"We will," Derek mumbled against his lips, and oh, Stiles must have said that out loud. He considered saying something else, something along the lines of _can I ride you next time_ when Derek started moving in earnest, drawing a series of short gasping moans from Stiles. While Stiles was regaining control of his arms, Derek reached down between them and started working at Stiles's cock.  
  
"Shiiiit," Stiles moaned out, mind whiting out for a few seconds as Derek squeezed the head in his palm, spreading Stiles's precome over the shaft. If he had been more coherent, Stiles would have put together an ode to Derek's handjob skills, but as it was he barely managed to get out a loud grunt before he was coming between them. Derek continued thrusting three, four more times before he slammed all the way in and held still. Stiles felt him come, his cock twitching and pulling slightly at Stiles's walls as they clamped down around him. Stiles felt his own dick jerk slightly in response.

They lay there for a moment, getting their breath back, before Derek grabbed the base of the condom and slowly pulled out. Stiles cringed a little as Derek slipped all the way out, the flare of the head pulling uncomfortably at his rim. Derek tossed the condom and rolled over onto the bed next to Stiles, using the edge of the hotel sheet to wipe off the worst of the come from Stiles's stomach before cuddling up behind him and burying his nose in Stiles's hair.

Cuddling. Derek was cuddling him. Stiles knew there was some sort of joke that would be perfect with that, but there was something else that was bothering him.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked, trying not to sound like he was about to fall asleep.

"Hmm?"

"Sex. Why'd you do it?"

"Smelled like arousal when I walked into the shop," Derek mumbled in reply. "Wasn't sure it was for me until you started dreaming."

Stiles blushed, realizing that he must have been calling for Derek in his dream fantasy. Which made sense, since he'd been thinking about Derek all day in the car, but still.

"Dude, we need to work on your boundaries."

"Sleep," Derek grunted, pulling Stiles in closer and nuzzling behind his ear.

Stiles grinned, letting Derek curl up behind him. They might have a lot to talk about in the morning, but he was pretty sure this trip would be a lot more fun than he'd originally expected.  
  


* * *

 

Talking the next morning didn't go quite as well as Stiles had hoped. And by not going well, he really meant not happening.

Derek had woken up first and laid claim to the bathroom, leaving Stiles to shiver himself out of sleep twenty minutes later and suffer his way through a lukewarm shower. But Stiles could deal with that; he totally understood the need for extended private time in the shower that used up all the hot water after having enthusiastic sex the night before.

Oh, wait. No he didn't.

"What the fuck, dude?" Stiles said as he came out of the bathroom. "Using all the hot water and avoiding me? Who taught you morning after etiquette?"

Derek, for his part, had packed his bags and was standing next to the door with his arms crossed and an impatient scowl on his face. "We need to go."

Stiles glared in a feeble attempt to get Derek to submit to his questioning, and threw up his hands when Derek didn't move. "Fine, but don't think I'm letting this go."

Reaching over to his side of the bed, Stiles started throwing his dirty clothes and other belongings (how did his phone charger get under the nightstand?) into his dufflebag while muttering under his breath about unappreciative hitchhikers and his need for caffeine. By the time he stood up and had his bag ready to go, Derek had moved his bags outside and was waiting by the jeep tapping his foot impatiently.

Stiles resolutely ignored him and walked towards the main office.

"Stiles!" Derek shouted after him.

"Coffee," Stiles called back, not bothering to turn around. Coffee was going to be necessary for dealing with this, he could already tell. Also, it helped him stay awake enough to focus on spotting speed traps so he wouldn't get caught going fifteen over.

Stiles wasn't surprised when Derek hadn't moved by the time he returned with his coffee. He wasn't surprised when Derek yanked open the door and threw his bag into the back the second Stiles unlocked the jeep. He wasn't surprised when Derek didn't say anything as he started the car. Even finding Derek's unfriendly glower attractive wasn't surprising.

If it hadn't been for that thing last night, Derek might have been the most predictable guy Stiles had ever met.

"Do you have a vow against talking in moving vehicles or something?" Stiles asked once they had made it to the state highway. "Because I swear I'd never lose control of my baby just because someone wanted a conversation."

"There's really nothing to say."

Stiles barked out a short laugh. "Yeah, right. Nothing to say. Nothing like why are you so impatient to get to California that you can't even handle a polite morning after conversation? Or nothing like where in California are you going? Or maybe nothing like what happened last night? And what about personal boundaries? I think we need to have a talk about that sometime."

After a minute or so with no answer, Stiles stole a glance over at his passenger just to make sure Derek was really there. Stiles hadn't dreamed up any hot hitchhikers before, but the complete shift in attitude from the night before was giving him whiplash. Derek was, of course, staring out the window, intently ignoring Stiles. And that. Well, that was almost like a _challenge._

"You realize that you're stuck in this jeep with me for the next six hours. Then we're going to have lunch and drive for another six hours before we stop for the night and wake up tomorrow to do it again. You literally have no escape."

"I wouldn't have done anything you didn't want."

Stiles really wanted to crow in victory, but he figured that wouldn't be conducive to continued conversation. And this really needed to be a conversation, because as much as Stiles loved morning blowjobs, surprise sex could be so not cool.

"But you didn't ask."

"I didn't need too."

"Uh, yeah, you really do." Stiles let go of the wheel for a moment to flail his hands around and stare at Derek to emphasize his point. Because it didn't matter how attractive you were, there was no such thing as _didn't need to ask._ Even though Stiles would totally grant Derek a free pass to do whatever whenever, it was the principle of the thing.

"Stiles, the road," Derek said, eyes flickering rapidly between Stiles and the long, straight stretch of road in front of them.

"Relax, I got this," Stiles said, returning his hands to the steering wheel and his attention back to the road with an exaggerated eye-roll. "But seriously dude, there's no such thing as too hot to ask. Consent is sexy and all that jazz."

"I'm not... It's not... I can just tell."

Pausing his focus on the road for a moment, Stiles turned to give Derek a skeptical look. "Uh huh. And how can you 'just tell,' hmm?"

"It's... complicated," Derek said at last, clearly struggling to come up with something that would make sense. "But I can tell. Like I can tell you want it now."

Stiles forced himself not to react beyond the immediate blush that rose to his cheeks. "Road head is not exactly something I want to try going 60 on a state highway. And that totally wasn't my point."

"I got the point," Derek said almost gently before his frown reasserted itself. "Also, I don't have a death wish. If you want sex, we're stopping the car."

"I... what?" Stiles did his best to keep his eyes on the road instead of turning to gape at Derek. No matter what the guy had said last night about there being a second time, Stiles was pretty sure his morning after etiquette meant that it was just the sex talking.

"You heard me."

Stiles swallowed hard (hard, oh god) and tried to come up with something to say that didn't involve staring or bad puns. "In public?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Pull off up here."

Stiles did, slamming on the brakes and nearly stalling out before he turned off the car. He patted the dashboard in apology before turning to face Derek. "Okay, what now?"

"I think you should get out of the car and brace yourself on the hood."

Stiles did a doubletake. "Hood sex? Seriously? Right here where anyone could drive by?"

Derek shrugged and opened the door, pointedly looking at the empty woods that stretched out in all directions around them before giving Stiles a wolfish smile. "Kinda deserted, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Stiles admitted, still not moving to get out.

"Or," Derek said in an overly casual tone, leaning out of the car to pull the door closed, "we could just keep going."

And nope, that was not happening. Since when did Stiles turn down sex with ridiculously attractive semi-strangers? That's right, he didn't. Because turning down sex with someone this hot would be a crime.

Unless he were in a relationship with a certain strawberry blonde green eyed goddess, but after the last five year plan had fallen through, Stiles kind of gave up on that option.

Remembering that he needed to do something in response, Stiles fumbled with the door handle and considered it a win that he managed to make it out of the car without faceplanting in the dirt. Derek grabbed him when he made it to the front of the jeep, and walked him back until he was leaning up against the grill, burying his face in Stiles's neck. Stiles gasped and tilted his head back as Derek bite down gently over his jugular, and oh, _yes_ , Stiles was definitely counting this as a win. Derek pushed forward harder, grinding his hips into Stiles's and nuzzling up his neck before claiming Stiles's mouth in a bruising kiss.

"So the hood of my jeep isn't exactly the best place for sex," Stiles panted out, hips stuttering against air as Derek pulled back . "I'm also kinda sore? And I don't have any more condoms, so..."

"We won't need them," Derek said, leaning in to nip at Stiles's neck again.

"We really do," Stiles said, feeling proud that he'd managed to get out that many words when Derek was going at his neck again. It was kind of embarrassing that he was getting so worked up over the neck thing, because Stiles was usually less about the animalistic marking and more about the making out. Derek rolled his hips forward again and Stiles let out a short gasp, deciding to blame the speechlessness thing on the grinding because damn that felt good.

"Don't need it for this." Without warning, Derek pulled back and yanked on Stiles's hips, turning him so that he was bracing his hands on the hood of his jeep rather than leaning back on it.

"What?"

Derek leaned forward so that he was breathing in Stiles's ear before he spoke. "I'm going to bend you over your car and lick you open. Then I'm going to finger you until you're begging for it, and if you ask nicely enough, I might even let you come. Then I'm going to hold you down and fuck your thighs. Any objections?"

Stiles wasn't entirely sure what Derek meant by 'fuck your thighs,' but it definitely sounded good. "Yes. No. I mean..." He paused for a moment to steady himself while Derek waited, moist breath warm against the shell of Stiles's ear. "No objections."

"Good," Derek said, reaching down to undo Stiles's belt. He let out an embarrassingly high pitched whine at the friction against his cock as Derek pulled his pants down over his thighs. Derek's hands slid slowly back up his legs, one stopping to fondle his sack while the other continued up to rest at the small of his back. Stiles tried to wait patiently for Derek's next move, but when he didn't do anything, Stiles really couldn't stay silent.

"Today would be nice." It might have come out as more of a question than a statement, but Stiles thought he could be forgiven for that. After all, Derek did have him by the balls, and while he was totally comfortable with hot guys getting all up on his junk, he also wanted to actually get off sometime soon.

"Worried we'll get caught?" Derek said, the smirk audible in his voice. Stiles froze. He'd pretty much forgotten that they weren't somewhere private, or even somewhere discreet. That anyone driving by would be able to see them.

"N-no," he stuttered out, gasping as Derek let go of his balls to give his cock a few rough pulls.

"Hmm." Derek said, his hand running back over Stiles's hip to rest on his ass. "Good."

Stiles opened his mouth to ask what exactly Derek found good about being in public, but he cut off into a surprised moan when Derek dragged the flat of his tongue over Stiles's hole. He was still slightly sore from the night before and the way the wet skin cooled when Derek pulled back to blow on it was just _heavenly_.

"Seems like you don't really want to be shared though." Derek said, taking his hands off Stiles's body. Stiles ignored the attempt at humor and rolled his eyes, pushing ass back at Derek, hoping he'd get the message to keep going.

"I thought we were having sex," Stiles griped.

"I thought you wanted to talk."

Stiles groaned. Of course Derek would choose now to be obtuse. "Sex first."

Instead of replying, Derek leaned back in and gave Stiles's hole another swipe with his tongue. Stiles moaned enthusiastically and tried to cant his hips to give Derek a better angle. Derek hummed in appreciation, the vibrations sending a full body shiver through Stiles.

By the time Derek had graduated to gently prodding at Stiles's entrance with his tongue, Stiles was a mess. His forearms were braced against the hood of the jeep, and he was breath was coming in shallow and quick in a way Stiles refused to call panting. He wasn't panting because that meant he was about to come, and no matter how sensitive he might be, he wasn't about to come from a rim job; that would just be embarrassing.

"Derek," Stiles breathed out, hand reaching for his dick as Derek's tongue pushed past the ring of muscle. So maybe he was about to come from a rim job, but at least he wouldn't be coming untouched, right?

That was something, anyway.

Derek's tongue pushed into Stiles a few more times before Derek tried the humming thing again, this time while his tongue was actually _in Stiles's ass._ That turned out to be as much as Stiles could take, and he came with a small whimper, shooting his load over the front of the jeep. He figured he would feel bad about that later, and apologize to her with a drive through wash, but for now he just wanted to bask in the afterglow.

"You're really sensitive, aren't you?" Derek said in a tone that was only slightly more amazed than mocking. Screw him anyway, he was ruining Stiles's afterglow.

"Screw you," Stiles mumbled into his arms.

Derek didn't reply, his hands running up and down Stiles's sides as Stiles came down from his orgasm. Once Stiles regained enough coherency to realize that Derek was still hard behind him, he looked back to see what exactly Derek wanted him to do. He was thinking blowjob, or letting Derek use Stiles's mouth to give himself a blowjob, mainly because it didn't involve Stiles having to do anything strenuous.

"No," Derek said quietly, stopping Stiles when he started to roll over onto his back. "This will be easier. Flex here." Derek tapped his hand against Stiles's thighs, indicating that he should move them together. Stiles did, not really feeling up to putting out the effort to figure out what exactly Derek was doing. Putting out, heh. God, he was easy.

Stiles startled slightly when he felt Derek's cock pushing between his legs before he remembered Derek saying something about fucking his thighs and decided that this must have been what he meant. Figuring it couldn't be too bad, especially if Derek thought he'd agree to it, Stiles decided to just go with it. After all, he knew about proper bedroom etiquette, and returning the favor of an orgasm was definitely near the front of the rule book. And if Derek didn't require any real effort from Stiles? Well, he wasn't going to complain.

Derek continued to thrust between Stiles's thighs, his precome rubbing into Stiles's legs and making them stick together every time Derek pulled back. Stiles was aware that if he hadn't just had a spectacular orgasm, he would be ready for round two to include some fingers (and maybe some cock too), but all his dick could manage was a sad twitch as he thought about how this had to feel for Derek. There wasn't enough lubrication to make things slick for him, and Stiles's definitely didn't shave his legs to be silky smooth. He was kind of surprised Derek wasn't getting chafing, but he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Fuck, Stiles," Derek ground out, bending over Stiles so that they were plastered together; Stiles's back to Derek's chest. Derek's hips stuttered slightly, and then he was coming, hot liquid pulsing out over Stiles's thighs.

Stiles let Derek stay like that for a minute before gently prying him off so he could use his shirt to wipe himself off.

"Not that that wasn't incredibly hot and something I would love to do again, and soon, but next time we're going to have either a damp towel or a hot shower nearby, because this is gross."

Derek look over at Stiles lazily from where he was leaning on a clean section of the jeep's hood, clothes already back in order. "Then maybe next time you should spring for a hotel room."

"Ha ha, very funny," Stiles deadpanned, balling up his shirt and walking back to the driver's seat, jangling his keys pointedly. Derek glared lightly (and how exactly was it that he could interpret levels of glares now?) through the window and made his way back to the passenger's seat, climbing in and shutting the door.

Stiles refused to get side tracked by sex this time, and considering the fantastic sex he'd just had, he figured that he was probably good for the next half hour or so before his dick decided that boning Derek sounded like a better idea than finding out where exactly in California the guy was going. Or why. Or why he couldn't take the bus. Or any of the other hundred questions Stiles should have made Derek give him answers to by now.

"So where exactly in California am I taking you," Stiles asked, hoping that the blunt route would lead him to answers.

"Beacon Hills," Derek grunted out, sounding like the only reason he said it was because he knew he'd have to tell Stiles eventually if he ever wanted to get there.

" _Beacon Hills?_ " Stiles repeated incredulously. "No way man, really? That's where I live."

Derek tensed, then forcibly relaxed his shoulders and turned to face out the window. And no. Just no. Stiles was not having this brooding out the window shit in his jeep again. And that's when it hit. Derek. Derek _Hale. Derek Hale_ whose _entire family_ had burned alive in a house fire ten years ago.

"Oh, shit," Stiles said, realizing why Derek didn't have any family to support him in New York. " _Shit._ I'm sorry. You've been gone for over ten years, and I didn't... sorry. But, why are you going back now?"

Derek didn't look surprised that Stiles had made the connection. "To see my sister and uncle."

"Your uncle," Stiles said, thinking out loud and trying to remember what had become of the Hale family after the fire. He had vague memories of his father working on the case, but he'd been too wrapped up in their own family problems with his mom at the time. It had been just before before she'd been diagnosed, and he'd forgotten a lot of the other things that had been going on around then.

"He's in a coma. We received word a few months ago that he'd been showing signs of improvement," Derek said.

"That's good, right?"

"I haven't heard anything from either of them since a week after she left," Derek replied, still staring out the window.

"That's... yeah, that's not good," Stiles said, trying to piece together something supportive to say. Being the comforting presence had always sort of been Scott's thing, and Stiles had never really figured out how he should act in a situation like this. Derek remained quiet in the seat next to him, and Stiles let the silence settle over the car.

After letting the quiet drift over them for a while, Stiles spoke up again. "You should stay with us when we get there. My dad's the sheriff, if anything happened to them, he'll be able to help you find out. We've got a spare room you could use. I'm sure he'll let you stay."

From the corner of his eye, Stiles saw the corners of Derek's mouth pull back in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "Yeah. I think I'll take you up on that."

"Oh good," Stiles said. "I'd hate to have to tell Dad that I managed to lose another boyfriend before he could make it home to dinner."

"Boyfriend?" Derek arched an eyebrow.

"Well it's not like I can say 'fuck-buddy' or 'hitchhiker,'" Stiles protested, trying to sound reasonable instead of panicked. "He's my _dad._ And he's the sheriff."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I can see why they never make it to your house if you call them such flattering names."

"Hey! I can do flattering names, _honeycakes_."

Derek raised the eyebrow again.

"Okay, fine. I can just introduce you as a friend from school. It probably won't save us from any embarrassment though, because my dad will probably go around trying to set us up anyway, because he's just like tha-"

"Boyfriend is fine," Derek interrupted.

Stiles turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. From the half amused, half disgruntled expression on Derek's face, Stiles didn't pull it off very well.

"It's fine, Stiles."

Stiles flashed Derek a smile,refraining from flooring the gas to see how fast an old jeep could drive across the country. He'd been right in his assessment last night. This trip was going to be fun, but he couldn't wait to get home.

**Author's Note:**

> Derek performs oral sex on Stiles while he is asleep without prior discussion or consent. As soon as Stiles is awake enough to know what is going on, he gives verbal consent. Later Stiles is not fully informed about what intercrural sex is when he consents to it. He ends up figuring it out as they go along, and is fine with it.


End file.
